


Run Away With Me

by KissingWinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingWinchesters/pseuds/KissingWinchesters
Summary: The bunker has become far too crowded so Sam takes the only logical action. Kidnap Dean.





	Run Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merakieros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merakieros/gifts).



> I wrote this for the lovely merakieros’s birthday! Happy birthday Andy!

Kidnapping Dean is not an easy thing to do. 

Unless of course your name’s Sam Winchester.

With the bunker getting more and more crowded, Sam can see how Dean is retreating, spending more time in his room (when they’re not hunting) and working in the garage because he knows no one else will be down there.

Sam gets it, and he longs for the days when their home hadn’t turned into a bit of a circus. 

They’ve spent so many years just the two of them that it’s always a bit weird to be constantly surrounded by people.

So, with that in mind, Sam decides the only thing to do is to kidnap his brother. 

It’s easier than it really should be, but that’s probably because Dean doesn’t have a clue that he’s being snatched.

Sam just suggests that they go for a drive, gives the old puppy dog eye thing, and Dean practically dislocates Sam’s shoulder dragging him to the Impala.

“Where do you want to go?” Dean asks, his eyes a little wild as his slips easily into the drivers seat, breathing out like he hasn’t been able to for a while. He turns a little so his knee is propped up, looking at Sam with such innocent eagerness that Sam has the urge to kiss him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam says, tapping Dean’s chest with the back of his hand. “Just drive.”

Dean doesn’t need to be asked twice. They tear out of there like every demon in hell is on their tale, not even bothering to tell anyone they’ve left. 

There’s a buzz in Sam’s stomach, a feeling of something just about to happen, and with Dean at his side Sam couldn’t be more ready.

They make it to the outskirts of Lawrence and Sam tells Dean to stop so he can get some snacks. Snacks turns into filling the trunk with food and beer, enough for a few days at least. Dean doesn’t say anything, just smiles softly as he fills the tank.

They sing like idiots for the next few miles, ribbing and shoving each other, and Dean looks lighter than he did at the bunker. He looks free. Part of Sam wishes they had a hunt, something to really get their teeth into, but it’s nice to just have the road stretching in front of them and no destination in mind.

“A storms comin’,” Dean says, looking up through the windshield at the blackening clouds. “Want to find a motel?”

Sam smirks and nods, letting his head settle on the headrest, content to just watch Dean not the weather. He hadn’t planned ahead for somewhere for them to stay, he figured they’d do what they’ve always done and find anywhere with a lit vacancy sign. Sam misses their life before the bunker, weirdly, and even though in his youth he’d craved a permanent home he’d grown to love their nomadic life.

“Should I be worried?”

Sam frowns, studying the fine lines around Dean’s eye. He can’t see the other eye from this angle but he knows Dean has a matching set.

“About?” Sam replies.

“I don’t know. You’ve gone quiet.”

Dean doesn’t look all that concerned. He’s used to Sam being silent for hours on end, but maybe he’s just sussing out what the plan is, if any.

“I’m tired, actually. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Dean yawns, giving Sam a sly look and a smile like Sam made him do it. “There’s a place not far, I think.”

“Good.”

“You hungry? If I remember right there’s a diner attached. If we’re lucky they’ll still be open.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam replies, happy to see the easy set of Dean’s shoulders.

Fat raindrops start to fall on the car, louder than the swooshing sound of the wipers. It makes Sam think about a time when they were kids and they got caught in a storm so bad Sam had hidden his face against Dean’s stomach until it had stopped. Dean had stroked Sam’s hair and talked softly to him the whole time, and even though he’d hated the roar of the storm Sam wasn’t afraid that it would hurt him, not when Dean was there. Even though all the ups and downs they’d faced over the years, Sam has never lost that belief.

“Hey, I think that’s it there,” Dean says, squinting like that would help him see through the sheet of rain coming down on them. He slams his hand on the steering wheel when they get closer. “Diners open.”

“They do takeaway too,” Sam says, turning his head when dean swings the car into the parking lot. 

“Yeah? Wanna just slob and eat in the room?” 

Dean lifts his eyebrows and Sam already knows what he’d prefer. Truth be told, Sam prefers the sound of that himself. He feels greedy for Dean’s company now, the short time spent in the car not nearly enough.

“I’ll get the room, you get food,” Sam replies. “I’ll have whatever.”

“Great.” Dean opens his door, grumbling at the ‘god damned rain’ and tosses the key over the hood to Sam who catches it easily. 

“Ok,” Sam says, a shiver running down his spine as his shirt starts to soak. He grabs their bags out of the trunk and jogs over to reception. 

“How many nights?” Alan, the night manager according to his badge, asks, his pen tapping against the desk.

“Uh, one... no, make it two actually.” 

Sam hands over his card and accepts the key, darting back out into the rain and heading down the row of rooms until he reaches number eight. 

He’s coming out of the bathroom with a towel when Dean crashes through the door dripping wet. Sam has left the door open a crack so Dean had known where to go.

“Fuck... here take these.” He shoves some pizza boxes and takeout bags at Sam and kicks the door closed behind him. “Where the hell did that come from? Thought I was gonna have to swim here.”

“I’m glad you did, I’m starving.”

Sam opens all the boxes as he puts them on the table, listening to Dean grunting in the bathroom changing into dry clothes. There are two pizzas, fries, onion rings, a great looking salad with goats cheese, and a whole box of deserts.

“I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you were hungry.”

Dean comes out of the bathroom in dark joggers and a grey t-shirt, still rubbing his hair with a towel. 

“We’ve gotta go to the diner for breakfast, Sam. You should’a seen the menu.”

Sam listens while Dean rhymes off pretty much every item on said menu, and they both settle down on their beds, cross legged and facing each other with food fanned out around them. They talk until it gets late, about random stuff, their dad, Bobby, their mom, anything they think about. The tv playing in the room sometimes gets drowned out by their laughter, but neither of them have been watching it anyway. 

When they both can’t stop yawning to talk anymore, they clear all the diner boxes and get into bed, staring at the ceiling, each with an arm tucked under their heads. From above, they look like mirror images of each other, though neither of them realise it.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” Dean says, happier than he’s sounded in a long time.

Sam closes his eyes feeling warm, right down to his bones.

“Night, Dean.”

***

“Didn’t I tell you? How good were those pancakes?”

Dean bumps Sam with his shoulder, twirling the car keys on his finger.

“I’m not going to eat again for a week,” Sam says with a laugh. He rubs his stomach, feeling full but content. “They were awesome though.”

“Ha, told ya.” Dean pats Sam’s back before they separate and get into the impala. “So, where to now?”

Sam grins. He was hoping that Dean was on the same page, not quite wanting to go back to the bunker just yet. 

“There’s a brewery nearby, and one of those medieval fairs. I googled a little while you were in the shower.”

“Awesome. We’ve got a better day for it too.”

They both look out towards the road, to a dash of blue sky and pale white clouds above the tree line. The ground is wet but drying already and the air smells like pine.

I hope they’ve got those giant bratwurst.”

“Are they medieval?” 

“Sure they are,” Dean replies, shrugging. 

“Alright, whatever you say. Let’s go.”

Dean starts the engine and they set off. Neither of them mentions that they’ve both neglected their phones since yesterday, but when Sam’s phone buzzes Dean sighs.

“Better tell whoever it is we’re not dead.”

There are a few messages unread but the top one is from Jack so Sam just types a quick reply, confidant he’ll let everyone else know.

“You ever feel like we’ve been invaded?”

“Hm, yeah sometimes,” Sam says, putting his phone away. “I mean, it’s good. It’s just...”

“Yeah,” Dean replies, not needing to hear what Sam meant. He knows. No one else understands how they function, what they have between them, and they’ve both been feeling antsy with how overcrowded the bunker has become. “This is good though.”

“Yeah.” Sam says. 

Dean clears his throat and looks back at the road, tapping away to the music while Sam hums, breaking into song occasionally.

After a while they stop for gas, and Dean comes out from paying with a bag full of snacks, including sandwiches, and a pack of beer tucked under his arm. They all get dumped on the back seat and Dean gets back into the car.

“What happened to the bratwurst?”

Dean wrinkles his nose and lifts an eyebrow.

“We might get hungry before we get there.”

“After the breakfast we just had?” Sam laughs. Dean is like a bottomless pit when it comes to food.

“You’ll thank me later,” Dean says, like it’s inevitable. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

Dean cranks up the music and puts his foot down on the accelerator. They don’t pass any other car for along the road, but Sam figures it’s just a quiet day. That thought disappears though when in the distance Sam sees something blocking the road.

“What the... damn it.” Dean slows the car and pulls over. “A fucking tree.”

Sam grimaces and they get out, walking over to the huge pine blocking the whole road.

“There goes the medieval fair. And your giant sausage.”

Dean snorts and opens his mouth to say something filthy, but soon shuts it when he sees Sam’s unamused face.

“There’s gotta be another road,” Dean grumbles, kicking the bark with the toe of his boot.

“Not for a few hours in that direction,” Sam says, pointing to the right. “Not to mention going back on ourselves first.”

“This is bullshit. We can’t just go back. Come on.” Dean goes to the trunk and gets starts shoving a few things in a backpack. “Grab the food, Sam.”

“What’re you doing?” Sam asks, getting the snacks and beer.

“We’ve got the wilderness right here. Let’s have a look around.”

“You want to go hiking?” Sam takes a backpack from Dean and puts the snacks in it, following Dean into the trees.

“Uh, no, I never said hiking. There might be something cool in there, a cave or whatever.”

“Or a bear,” Sam scoffs, nudging Dean with his arm. Dean just shakes his head and shoves Sam back.

As it happens, they don’t find a cave, or any bears, but Sam nearly steps on a bear trap. Dean slams himself into his brother, moving him just as the rusty teeth snap shut, razor sharp despite their obvious age.

“Holy shit,” Sam pants, staring at the trap and wiggling his toes in his boot. “How’d I miss that?”

“You were too busy boring me about tree sap or something,” Dean replies absently, but he hasn’t stepped back, his hands still clenched in Sam’s shirt sleeves.

“Hey, you alright?”

Dean pulls Sam against his chest and wraps his arms around him.

“Fucking bear trap,” he says, squeezing the curve of Sam’s neck.

Sam’s hands, which were hanging at his sides, find a home on Dean’s sides, his fingers spreading out to get as much contact as possible. Sam loves when Dean hugs him, even if it does only seem to be when one of them has either died or almost died. They don’t do it nearly enough in Sam’s opinion.

This hug though... it feels different. Dean isn’t letting go, and Sam doesn’t want him to.

“Dean...”

Dean leans back so they’re face to face, his eyes dropping to Sam’s lips and then back. It’s Sam who moves first, maybe, he isn’t sure, but he knows that they’re kissing, and it’s slow and incredible and god Sam needs more. So much more.

Scrabbling to get a grip of Dean’s shirt, Sam pushes his brother against the nearest tree, accidentally biting his lip as he does.

“Umff, ow..”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam says, bringing his hands up to Dean’s face.

“Shh, doesn’t matter... just...”

Their mouths meet again, and Dean’s got his fingers in Sam’s hair, moaning when Sam’s tongue pushes past his lips. It’s so familiar, even though they’ve never done this before, but Sam knows the taste of Dean’s mouth, the sharp ridge of his teeth, the sounds he makes. He knows because there’s nothing about Dean that he doesn’t know.

“Wait... hold up...” Dean stops Sam with a hand on his chest.

“You’re not going to ask me if I’m sure, are you? Because I swear I’ll punch you if...”

“No,” Dean laughs. “I know you’re sure, Sammy. It’s just... there’s a branch sticking in my spine.”

“Oh.” Sam smiles and takes Dean’s hand, freeing him from the tree. 

“So, uh... you wanna fool around? A bit?”

“Yeah... I do. But, can we check for traps first?”

Dean kisses Sam, a smacking kiss that seems to echo around the valley, then smacks his ass and does a quick sweep of their surroundings.

Other than the old rusty trap that nearly had Sam’s foot, there doesn’t appear to be any more danger.

“Good thing I thought to bring a blanket,” Dean says, glancing at Sam as he spreads it on the ground, lying down on top of it. “Get over here then.”

Sam obliges, taking his shirt off before boldly lying on top of his brother.

“Woah, someone’s eager.”

“Don’t see why we should pretend anymore, do you? Always been you, Dean.”

Dean sighs and kisses Sam’s neck and jaw before returning to his lips. He can’t seem to get enough of them.

“You always... it’s always you saving me, Sam. You gotta do it again.”

Sam slides his hands under Dean’s T-shirt, feeling the hard muscle beneath him.

“Why do you think I kidnapped you?”

Dean snorts, mirroring Sam’s actions but running his hands up Sam’s back instead.

“Kidnapped? I didn’t put up any struggle. I couldn’t have got out of there any faster.”

“Still... it’s better when it’s...”

“Just us,” Dean adds. “This isn’t wrong.”

“No, it isn’t.” Sam kisses dean again, loving how Dean opens up for him. “Think you can shut up now? Fooling around, remember?”

“Oh, yeah sure.”

Fooling around turns into grinding against each other, rolling around on the blanket until it and they are covered in leaves and moss. It only made sense that losing their clothes would be the practical thing to do.

“Sam... fuck, look at you...”

Sam pulls Dean down on top of him, hissing when Dean’s erection brushes against his own. 

“I could say the same. Dean... I want...”

“What?” Dean bites Sam’s chest and sucks his nipple, grinning against the wetness he leaves there as Sam’s body jerks beneath him.

“Want you to fuck me. Please...”

“Damn, Sam... can’t believe you just said that...”

They kiss more passionately, and Dean reaches between them, taking Sam’s cock in his hand and stroking it firmly. He lifts his ass up and moves Sam’s cock so that it rests between his cheeks.

“I’m going to fuck you. Wanted to, god you don’t even know, but not gonna do it here.”

Dean moves his hips up and down, dragging his ass against Sam’s cock as he talks, hoping it’ll be enough.

“Not gonna do it in the woods. Want you in my bed.”

“Dean... yeah, want that too.”

Sam thrusts against Dean, spreading his legs as Dean props himself up over him, the sun making Dean’s skin glow. He doesn’t look real, Sam thinks, curling his fingers around Dean’s cock. He can feel it pulsate with every stroke.

“Take my time with you,” Dean continues. 

“Dean...fuck...” Sam’s hair is stuck to his neck and forehead, sweat covering his chest. Dean licks him, bites his nipples and nuzzles into Sam’s armpit, not happy unless he’s dragging broken gasps of pleasure from him.

When they finish, Dean let’s Sam’s cock drop back to his stomach, taking them both in hand to wring their orgasms out of them. Sam comes first, his neck bared for the onslaught of Dean’s mouth, shuddering as he spills over Dean’s fist.

“That’s it, Sammy. So good.”

Dean doesn’t last long after that, moaning into Sam’s mouth when he comes, his hips freezing as the force of his orgasm hits.

Sam holds Dean close, and they kiss for the longest time, wrapped up in each other like they might fuse like that, never to be parted again.

Eventually though, Dean convinces Sam to let him go, wiping them clean with the first shirt he gets his hands on. Sam’s, of course. When he’s done they lie on their backs and breathe. Everything is different, yet nothing has changed at all.

They lie naked on the blanket for a while, their shoulders, fingers, and ankles touching. They talk and kiss and when Dean’s stomach growls they get dressed and eat the snacks in Dean’s bag.

“Good job you got all of this,” Sam smirks, and Dean tosses the corner of his sandwich at his head. 

“I booked the motel for tonight too,” Sam says casually when they walk back to the car. 

“Sneak,” Dean smiles, crowding Sam against the impala. “You know, it doesn’t have to be in my bed.”

“Hmm,” Sam replies, tugging dean closer by his belt. “I thought you might say that.”

“Sayin’ I’m predictable, Sam?”

“I just know you,” Sam says, unable to resist kissing dean again. How he’s going to resist doing this in front of anyone when they go back to the bunker he has no clue. 

“Hey, what’s with the frown?”

Sam shrugs and shakes his head. There will be time to think about that later. Today all he wants to think about is getting back to the motel room and getting Dean naked again.

“It’s nothing,” Sam says. “Don’t want to think about anything.”

Dean nods, understanding.

“You know, I saw something that might be something. In the paper I took from the diner. Could have another look.”

“Tomorrow?” Sam asks, already liking the sound of this ‘something’ even if it turns out to be nothing. If it keeps them on the road for a little longer then Sam is definitely on board.

“Hm, tomorrow,” Dean says, already going in for another kiss.

Sam kisses him back, softly, savouring every delicious moment. Kidnapping Dean turned out to be the best thing he ever did.


End file.
